My Expiration Date
by FetusDragon
Summary: Regardless of all the spells, potions and mythical cures that keep her alive for another day; Olivine Blaine Malfoy is merely just existing and not living. Her death had been put on a wearisome, uneventful pause for the past four years and she craves for her expiration date to come up; until she discovers that life is worth living by a gorgeously developed peripeteia called love.
1. Pause

"_**I was a suicidal automaton who only struggled each agonizing second **__**so all the countless efforts to continue my meaningless life would not be a total waste." **_

_**Olivine Blaine Malfoy.**_

* * *

Author's Note: This fictional story is not based upon any popular characters or plot lines in Harry Potter but is a work of my fabulous imagination. This story revolves around a young girl called Olivine suffering from the social drawbacks of being the hidden daughter of the Minister of Magic and side effects of her life threatening illness. **PLEASE READ- And as I am sure you will discover this small, obvious fact but all the ****character's in this story are created by myself and this story involves only their magical adventures at Hogwarts but most of these character's are the kids of The Next Generation so they're mentioned and involved in this story too. And I appreciate you reading this recommended little note.**

Disclaimer's Note: I do not own Harry Potter or Hogwarts, but in all fairness I own the title of my story, the characters I alone created and this story, itself.

**AND THE STORY BEGINS:**

* * *

I stayed silent, my limp body bouncing in my father's arms as their conversation was too interesting to be ignored by a powering slumber.

"There's nothing wrong with her, Amelia." The incredibly formal voice of my father drawled.

My mother's soft voice weakened as she struggled to find her words, "She isn't living, she is just... surviving."

I felt my father's grip grow stronger and his muscles tense. "The magic is healing her, it'll work, in time." He replied stiffly.

"All those treatments, spells and potions are only preventing her death, not cancelling it." Her truthful words hung it the air as not another word was spoken until unconsciousness won my losing battle.

* * *

My peaceful slumber was obliterated, as I slowly opened my purblind eyes only seeing blurriness. I felt my arms being tugged causing my body to be pulled forward into a sitting position, as I squinted failing to identify all the figures dotted around my bedroom due to my extremely crappy vision. I moved my head around in a lame protest, moaning as my over sized glasses were pushed onto my face. The smiling face of my favorite maid, Belinda came into view as she shook my shoulders lightly afraid I would break.

"Come on, Miss. Today, you'll be visiting some old friends!" She said cheerfully as if this was something I should be pleased about. I was too tired for my curiosity or questioning to kick in just yet, so I stayed silent and still as I was dragged around being prepped for the day being handled like an antique rag doll by the house staff.

I sat on the end of my bed lifeless, feeling the usual tingle of pain at each healing spell thrown my way.

The mattress squeaked as the same old morning routine repeated itself, as either a family member or Belinda asked me to recall information while another new healer or expert sat and observed my condition.

Today, it was Belinda's turn.

"Can you name your family, Sweetie?" She asked, rubbing my back in an effort of pointless comfort.

"Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, the youngest minister of magic for three years running. His cold, ambitious personality traits passed on down his oldest son, Edmund Draco Malfoy who is also obviously my older and only sibling. And my mother, Amelia Louise Malfoy is his wife, a woman of no magical abilities and from muggle bloodline. My parents are both thirty seven years of age, Edmund is eighteen and I am sixteen." I said.

I saw the perfected smirk on my brother's face as he ran a hand through his hair, leaning against my wall.

Belinda nodded, "Good, well done. Now can you tell us this address?" She asked, reading from the roll of parchment filled with unnecessary questions from this sucky observer.I glanced at my brother. It was hardly impressive how I could give a short description of my family, why did everyone apart from Ed award me with compliments whenever I answered.

"Not relevant," Edmund replied coolly, "If you actually read her file, you would know that there is a pattern in her memory and that she isn't stupid so she knows her bloody own address and her family members." I chewed my lip to hold back a laugh at my brother's rudeness; as he rolled his eyes sighing loudly as the healer fumbled around with his bag scanning through some pages.

Later, the new observer took over which I was very uncomfortable with as Eddy made snide comments all the way through about how poor of a job he was doing.

* * *

I stared at my reflection, smoothing down my pale blue sun dress that added false curves to my frail, small teenage body. I wrapped the white cardigan tighter around me, giving some much needed volume to my flat chest.

"You look simply gorgeous, Miss." Belinda commented, connecting two thin braids at the back of my head with a hair clip resembling a large white rose. The jealously she felt showed in her eyes and expression as she brushed my hair longingly, "You have such pretty hair, Miss. It's just so straight and long," I tapped my sky blue flat shoes together, as she continued talking mindlessly. "Unlike me, hair like a bloody bog brush." She laughed weekly as I didn't know how to respond to her compliment so I stayed silent, letting her babbling continue as I loathed silence.

My father's genes were obviously more dominant in the family as both I and Edmund shared his ghostly white skin, stormy grey eyes and silvery blonde hair. But my mother on the other hand was the total opposite to us in appearance with auburn tinted hair and sun kissed skin.  
I grimaced at myself listening to Belinda's words, fixing my large rimmed thick glasses that made my eyes preternaturally huge. I chewed my lips, puffing my cheeks out hating how hollow they looked as curiosity about who I would be visiting started to interfere with my silence.

"Where am I going today?" I interrupted.

"To visit family friends, Miss." She replied, full of enthusiasm. So I wasn't going to visit any 'old friends', I was instead to visit my _family's_ friends.

"Like this?" I asked, as she tied the cannula around my neck, as I stuffed it into my nostrils hating the stupid nose blocker.

At the ripening age of twelve I was gifted with a fantastically improbable curse from a potion that supposedly claimed to cure my lung cancer completely, instead of altering the slow working muggle medicine for potion Company was sued for every gallon it ever held in possession because the potion killed me. But my death was temporarily suspended by powerful, slightly forbidden magic.

My life was on a draining pause that would never hit play basically. And of course messing with life causes side effects- memories easily forgotten, blindness, more hours spent blacked out, a dangerously low body temperature and having no beating heart where all side effects I had the pleasure of owning, abnormally paused by magic.

I was a suicidal automaton who only struggled each agonizing second so all the countless efforts to continue my meaningless life would not be a total waste.


	2. An Unforgettable Meeting

"_**I purposely kept each day boringly identical so I wouldn't forget myself or my routine**_.._**."**_

_**Olivine Blaine Malfoy**_

* * *

Author's Note: I feel like the quality since the first chapter, decreased. I rushed a little with this chapter because I wanted to do regular updates but I don't know… a review or comment would really be appreciated as I feel like this chapter sucks but I don't know.

Disclaimer's Note: I do not own Harry Potter…

* * *

I rarely left my isolated bedroom hidden in the attic, let alone ever abandoned the mansion; so my life had only been a meaningless blur. I purposely kept each day boringly identical so I wouldn't forget myself or my routine- as lack of knowledge in any field frustrated me sizably. Yet memories of previously recent events still became extinct without caution in my abnormal mind.

The dress swished around my knees as I rotated my body liking the soft material brush against my legs as clutching the rail, I continued my expedition down the extensive grand staircase that spiralled for millenniums.

I twisted my head seeing thoroughly polished suede shoes above me as it was definitely my older brother talking about how unreliable his newly purchased broom was for flying at such dangerous speeds.

"If you feel that way, don't play Qudditch." My mother suggested gently, hating the sport. She was the only living example able to refuse Edmund's perfectly pitched schemes and seemingly well-reasoned requests.

We walked down to the first floor together, as I noticed how they slowed their pace on my account.

"Where am I being dragged off, today then?" I said yet again, only this time asking my father.

He glanced up, chewing his eggs deliberately slow. "Hello to you too," He spoke, adding emphasis on his words.

The location was hard to suss out, with both my brother and father always wearing tailored sharp looking suits as lounging clothes and my mother always looked that perfect even with that simple, undeserving housedress that she wore.

My mother took a seat beside him, as she leaned in giving him a small welcoming kiss on the cheek until he lunged on her and began to snog her with troubling passion. He roughly pulled away from her as I just stood there grimacing at my sexually active parents, wincing as he whispered things in French using a deep, husky voice into my mother's ear that I thankfully could not understand.

Edmund stiffened fixing his tie, "Be glad you're awful at languages." He muttered, extremely displeased.

"I'm not!" I shouted, "Mandarin and Finish are-"

"Incredibly difficult languages to learn," He interrupted rehearsed, with a forged yawn.

"Shut up," I mumbled, a defeating blush staining my cheeks.

* * *

Due to my penetrating whining, I was informed on my location: A garden party, which of course caused the classic argument between my mother and I, about my clinical 'depression' and how from now on I would be forced to attend more social events that I would undoubtedly forget.

So my brother agreed to do the charitable task of putting up with my complaints while accompanying me to this mandatory gathering, while getting an incredibly undeserving reward for just being in my company! I never felt more wanted in my entire meaningless existence.

I watched sulkily as my mother smiled almost guilty at me disappearing from the lit fireplace.

My brother threw in a clump of Floo Powder saying an address as the flames flickered dark green, as I stubbornly folded my arms.

"You ready?" He asked impatiently, exhaling from the expected bickering about to begin.

"I'm not transporting through fire!" I exclaimed, finding standing in a burning fireplace slightly unnerving.

"Stop it now," He ordered sharply, towering over me. "For once, stop being such a brat about everything."

I hid my burning cheeks, feeling so childish.

"So," He continued with a lighter tone. "How would you like to get there?"

I felt the usual knotting of my stomach as due to my brother's endless perfections, he of course could apparate. With the utmost faultlessness we arrived to a new destination, the nerves in my legs shook from the impact, as Edmund whipped his head around, paling at his sounds of falling water echoed, as I looked around to find only us in a deserted brook.

He made a mistake, how utterly perfect, perhaps today wouldn't be all that bad. "You Prat," I huffed rehearsed- being ready for the day when Edmund actually did a single wrong.

He glared threateningly at me, "Well, no wonder we're besides water, with your off-putting, clammy hands and all." He snapped viciously as I frowned whipping the beads of sweat on the front of my dress.

I scoffed, "You can't blame me for being nervous, I am with a novice after all."

A scream left my mouth as with a crash someone fell from above and tumbled into the murky waters, I glanced up at the intertwining trees checking for any more surprises.

A boy submerged a moment later as I flushed beet red just staring at this intensely hot guy, as the water slowed down his rippling strides.

"Why the hell are you in a tree?" My brother shouted, standing in front of me for what I assumed was an attempt of protection.

"I have my own reasons," I heard the stranger reply, "Now, don't tell me you apparated to the wrong place, Malfoy_?" _He asked, his voice dripping with mischief. I raised my head above my brother's shoulders, holding onto him for support as I mindlessly stared with fascination at the boy's crooked smile. Since the only decent looking males I ever saw were either a parent or sibling, seeing a young guy so hot was quite a foreign delight.

"Of course not!" My brother declared, scoffing at the truthful thought. "Don't be ridiculous," He straightened his shoulders, causing me to fall on the balls of my feet. "And you still haven't explained the reason why, you just casually fell out a sixteen foot tree!"

I peeked for another look, "That's an awfully pacific estimated height," The attractive boy muttered to himself glancing down, kicking his legs to stay afloat.

"Let's go," Edmund sighed tiredly, grabbing my arm but my feet stayed planted to the mossy ground.

The stranger looked up, his emerald eyes meeting mine. The most likely conclusion was myself being delusional but I was certain that the twinkling look in his gorgeously green eyes was awe.

With ease, he pulled himself onto dry land raining all over the grass as he strode towards us. His dripping state slowing down his pace.

"Merlin, don't let him catch up," My brother insisted, pulling on my arm but my body now having a sudden ounce of strength refused to be obedient; but soon I was defeated and being carried away as strength was only a temporary gift given by masses of effort and my input was a lost cause.

"I can't help but assume you and your _dear_ sister are running away from _me_," The boy commented, jogging besides us.

I dug my sandals into the soil, curious about his relationship with my brother as I struggled to stop gazing at him, it had been a long time since I last (remembered) coming into contact with the opposite sex.

I was quite sure we had never met yet he knew who I was. Gangly and leanly muscular, his posture was viciously poor, one hand half in a pocket of his sopping jeans. Untidy black chin length hair that stuck up at the back and clear green eyes. Unforgettable.

* * *

Thank you for reading, I'll try to post the next chapter for Tuesday...


	3. Beauty

"_**It is the duty of those who are beautiful to identify beauty."**_

_**~ Thomas Anthony Granger.**_

* * *

Author's Note: It's been so long since I last uploaded but I find it hard to do prologues and don't you love how the quality has transferred to tedious quantity?

Disclaimer: I am not J.K Rowling, sorry.

* * *

"Well, we aren't." My brother replied stiffly, "Not anymore anyway."

He shook his head still smiling, turning his prevailing gaze back to me. "It's about time we became acquainted Miss Olivine Blaine."

I limply shook his outstretched hand as his robust grip refused to let me go.

"How do you know my-"I began, suddenly silenced by his travelling gaze.

"Name?" He finished, his naturally upturned eyebrows raising at my unfinished question.

A tingling, electric shock resulted as he ran his fingertips all over my bare wrist.

He shrugged his slacked shoulders smirking, "It is the duty of those who are beautiful to identify beauty."

I felt a grin spread across my face, as my mouth ached a little from not usually forming a smile or any other expression representing happiness.

"Save it for the guests," My brother grumbled.

The boy laughed unfortunately releasing my hand. "Thomas Anthony Granger," he introduced himself, "it has been the greatest, ultimate privilege to finally meet you."

"You know Olivine Blaine, our meeting has been prolonged for so long it is a literal crime." Thomas said as I noticed his striding gaits matching my own slowing footsteps.

I sighed, "I just hate a literal crime."

He nodded in agreement, "I have a suggestion of how to resolve this horrific criminal act so we can all move on."

"A suggestion?" I repeated.

Edmund's presence only became aware of as a screeching garden gate was kicked open as Edmund steadied it with his leg scowling loathingly.

"After you, Tom." My brother replied bitterly, as Thomas remained unaware of his blindingly obvious protectiveness.

"Thanks Eddy!" Thomas exclaimed, totally genuine.

I followed the brick walkway, seeing a Victorian house painted a sickly yellow and clashing green was enclosed by a protective block of dangling bluebells from unnaturally tall hedgerows.

Linking arms with Edmund we arrived into the buzzing garden filled with activities. A ring of women sat around the dining table including my mother either eating or preparing food while sharing laughter, the dishelmed population of youths either took part in the intense game of qudditch playing or sat under the shade of a ripe blossom tree.

"Everyone," Thomas announced, his sharp whistling attracting complete silence. Everyone stopped their chosen happenings as my presence became aware off. "This is the beautiful Olivine, say hello." The scene was like a frozen snapshot of time as everyone stayed perfectly still staring at me.

Sitting beside my mother, a woman with a warm smile and red hair curving around her shoulders with the same piercing green eyes I recognised from Thomas stared open mouthed at me. "Merlin, Amelia she's so…" She breathed, unable to finish her words.

My cheeks flushed at all the unwanted attention as I pressed closer into Edmund's arm as a girl around my age, possibly younger sped towards me on her broom, shouting my name ecstatic.

I writhed under her frightfully strong hug, as the complete stranger just lunged at me without warning. She pulled away reluctantly still gripping my shoulders as if afraid I'd slip away as she gazed at me, as if I was her idol.

I blankly stared back at her as she started yapping about our devastating separation.

Thomas ruffled the girl's head, "Not just yet, Charlie. Okay?"

"Oh," Charlie whispered, her clear blue eyes filled with hurt.

"Don't you have _somewhere_ to be?" My brother asked Thomas sharply, as a few seconds passed until he nodded in response a little startled.

"Oh, yeah." He said defeated. I watched, a little disappointed as he jogged over laying a kiss on the red haired woman's cheek. He had a girlfriend. "Bye Mum," Oh. He was just kissing his mother. I stared blankly at him, as he put a hand on my shoulder. "I am a man of my word, so I must leave and do my duties but promise me we'll meet again." I said nothing, too stunned. Why would he want to meet me again?

"Lay your filthy hands off my daughter." My father called, as Tom grinned giving a solute and rushing away.

* * *

I had tried to purposely forget each face present but like I knew, it is impossible to control your memory. Clearly they had all made a previous agreement to pretend like this was their first meeting with all the hushed whispers about what to say and the side glances.

I heard a distant voice asking me a question but honestly I didn't care so I played with the lace cloth covering the enlarged garden table.

I lifted my head, feeling a painful throbbing in my right ankle as Edmund kicked me gesturing to the woman looking at me. That was Katherine Weasley, my Godmother and wife of someone present and mother of someone else present. Katherine was referred to as 'Kat' by most, she was pretty with straight black hair streaked with grey and dark, angular eyes. I liked Kat.

"Kat," I replied, unsure of whatever she said. "I don't know who the fuck you are but I think you _made_ a good Godparent."

She laughed. "But I Dear Godchild, _made_ a far better one." The red haired man besides her said, the corner of his eyes crinkling as he grinned. Everyone in this family was ginger, I swear.

I shrugged to my supposed Godfather. "Whoever wins my affection, is the overall better Godparent."

My suggestion had an overly effective impact, as everyone laughed for whatever reason- even Edmund smiled.

* * *

Hope you liked it. It has literally been a month but no one reads it anyway so #YOLO. AM I RIGHT? YEAH. I'm right!

Sorry for using #YOLO.


	4. Memory

"_**Any attempts to feign normal social interactions was just depressing…"**_

_**Olivine Blaine Malfoy**_

* * *

Author's Note: **PLEASE READ. EACH BREAK IS A NEW DAY. **This chapter is supposed to show how she's losing her memory. And you know how The Next Generation Kids are involved, well Fred Weasley is her Godfather, if you didn't get that already.

Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter.

* * *

The evening had resulted in me taking refuge in the shadows despite the few that beckoned me to join in the conversation. I didn't wish to leave though, not yet.

"It's weird," My apparent Godfather commented, leaning his back against the tree trunk while sitting cross legged besides me.

I shut my book. "What is?" I asked.

"Talking to you," He replied. "Only a few weeks ago, you were staying with me and Kat in the shop and now you don't even remember my name."

"Properly because you weren't worth remembering." I said. He laughed.

Neither of us spoke again. Any attempts to feign normal social interactions was just depressing because it was so glaringly obvious that everyone I once loved would always feel awkward and unsure around me, because I didn't know them.

* * *

I uncovered the easel. On it was a hasty charcoal sketch of a boy with a wide grin, he looked my age, maybe a year older. I was a good artist but a modest one so unlike any other time I didn't store this picture away, it seemed too special.

My 'room' is basically the top floor of the house. My bed was made. Sheets hung over a bunch of artist's easels I assumed I had painted. My hair was in barretted braids and today's decided costume was a kimono.

Edmund and Mother weren't here for whatever reason.

* * *

I sat up in bed, waiting for the morning intrusion.

Edmund walked in, his hair matted on one side like he'd lost a fight with his pillow. His blue silk pajamas that had 'EM' monogrammed on the pocket. That was how lame Edmund was, he had monogrammed sleeping attire.

I downed the potion he gave me as he perched on the very edge of my bed.

"Morning," He greeted.

"Morning." I responded.

"Your name and age?" He asked.

"Olivine Malfoy, sixteen."

He nodded, "And I am?"

"My brother."

"Good, now who's our mother?"

"Mother?" I asked. "What mother?"

He turned his body around as my bed springs squealed in protest. His face was scrunched up in either pain or concern.

* * *

I stared at the portrait of the grinning boy. He seemed so familiar.

I uncovered the easel besides it covered with a sheet stained with splats of red and orange paint. The picture was definitely of the same boy but with more detail, his green eyes and black hair well defined against the clear scarlet background.

He was properly just a book character stuck in my head.

I span round at the knocking on my door. "Come in," I called.

Surprisingly, a man entered. "Want to watch me excel at something?" He asked, the accent rich and distinct. His albino hair, straight and short, framed his face that was long and full of sharp angles. His eyes matched mine perfectly.

He looked like a younger version of my father.

"Please, just barge into my room without giving an introduction." I said, rolling my eyes. What kind of people was father hiring these days, seriously?

His lips quirked into an unsure smirk. "You don't have the humorous wisdom you seem to think,"

I stared at him. What was this guy talking about?

* * *

I woke up the next morning panicked because I dreamed of drowning, well more being like frozen at the bottom of a lake but I just laid there, silently decomposing while resting under a dying blossom tree a grinning boy watched me rot away.

* * *

Father had put me to bed despite my complaints about feeling fully awake. Edmund would still be awake at this hour practicing his charm work or helping Father in the Drawing Room. The door was ajar and a pair of voices came out.

"She forgot she was a witch yesterday." I recognized my mother's voice say. "She looked absolutely terrified when Eddy started casting healing spells on her."

"Maybe next week will be better." A woman sighed: Kat.

"Maybe."

I paused, more concerned about getting caught than anything else.

"It's selfish what we're doing to her." Mother said after a few moments of silence. "She's suffering for our benefit."

"Fred told me something before we came." She spoke so fast it was hard to understand. "I promised not to tell but before the summer when she stayed at ours." She hesitated and then her words came out all at once. "She wanted him to kill her, she said it was her last chance to be free."


End file.
